Just as stealthily as she came back, I made my way down the kitchen and into the living room, switching off the lights on several hallways to conceal my presence, leaving the chandelier in the living room the only source of light bright enough to prevent Ms. Babcock from falling over the furniture.

What the devil possessed her to come back? The gleaming keys on the mahogany table near the foot of the stairs answered my question. I snatched her keys and hid beside the grand piano just in the nick of time her blond head peered from the foyer door, looking left and right, ensuring the ground floor was empty before slowly walking inside.

I could see her eyes desperately scanning the room for her keys. It was fascinating watching her when she thought there was no one around. Her guard was down, and you see the touch of vulnerability about her. Those were rare unguarded moments as she knew the Sheffield house was always full of people and her arch nemesis-me was always about. I could tell she thought she was alone. The bitch mask was off. Her expression was less haughty, her beautiful features soft, a pang of worry cross her brows and a touch of despair cloud her eyes a few times before making her way to the office.

I immediately sped to the front door and locked it with the master key. I smiled impishly. The front door cannot be opened without the key. She would have to alert the household with her presence if she wanted to get out of the house and I surmised after my outburst and our confrontation in front of the Sheffield's this afternoon, seeing them was the last thing she wanted. I know I wanted the ground to swallow me whole, so I don't have to see anyone.

With the front door locked, her only alternative exit was the back door which unfortunately had no sophisticated lock like the front door. I must plan it carefully. One false move and Ms. Babcock could very well slip out the back door. With perfect timing she would be a mouse caught in a mousetrap.

I immediately hurried to the kitchen to stuff a couple of hairpins on the keyhole to prevent the knob from turning. I've seen this in one of the cop shows on television and wanted to learn this as new trick on Ms. Babcock but alas I never got to it as the last time I tried it, it was Fran who got locked in the toilette across Mr. Sheffield's office, and in their panic they immediately called the locksmith.

I was so pleased with myself coming back from the market, thinking Ms. Babcock would have been trapped in the guest toilette for an hour, having this tiniest delight to strike a bargain with me just to let her out only to be disappointed to find her crossed-legged, seated on the sofa in her flowing skirt, a small brown scarf dressed her long neck, her arms crossed on her chest, gloating at me. She may know me much more than I care to admit.

Everyone thought it was an honest mishap, but the dagger-looks Ms. Babcock shot me indicated she knew otherwise.

Till this day I didn't have the heart admit to Fran it was my fault she got stuck in the bathroom.

I circled around back going to the office from the opposite hall from the living room. I peered through the door crack into the dimly lit study and smiled inwardly finding Ms. Babcock in her expensive suit crouched on the carpeted floor searching for keys under the table.

Unholy thoughts started creeping into my head after which instead of going over the other side of the desk to pick up whatever she was reaching for, she sprawled herself on top of Mr. Sheffield's desk reaching out for the item that fell over. By gawd! and she wasn't eve in a skirt or a dress that displayed her long legs and I was craving for her delectable body beneath mine.

I strolled away from the door a few paces back and pretended to look for Brighton, and just as I predicted she made a dash for the front door. Quietly I watched like a panther stalking its prey. The rising panic in her eyes were adorable I could just kiss them away as I watched her try with all her might to unlatch the front door ad when it proved futile, she ran to the kitchen and tried the back door. As I drew nearer the swinging kitchen door, I heard her curse under her breath.

I crossed my fingers and whispered a little a prayer. If our stars were destined, I would have her where I want her. She was an alpha female, proud and compelling. She knew she would always have the advantage when we face-off at Mr. Sheffield's house. Her rank was above mine after all, she would always be the colleague of the Master of the House while I was ana mere employ. I tried to coax her into a serious discussion by proposing outside her domain in a romantic restaurant but still she would not be deterred into mellowing down to a heart to heart discussion. Let's see her use her claws in another lion's den.

Like an answered prayer, I heard the light steps of her Jimmy Choos going up the backstairs. My heart sank when I heard her footsteps walk past my bedroom door. She was braver than I thought attempting to circle around and go down the main hall running the risk of running into anyone of the Sheffields. I almost but ran up to catch her before reached the top of the main hall staircase and drag her kicking and screaming back into my room but something or someone must have deterred her plans for I heard her slowly walk back and with a brief hesitation opened the first door from the top of the backstairs.

I smiled like the cheshire cat as I purposefully walked up to my room. I could feel my adrenaline rushing in anticipation coming face to face once again with Ms. Babcock.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I could hear Gracie's voice echoing down the hall, speaking with her girlfriend about a boy she liked, oblivious to the trespassing blond that almost collided with her.

"Excuse me, Gracie dear," I said, handing her a 50-dollar bill.

"Hey, cool. What is this for?" she asked giggling.

"For being at the right place at the right time," I explained.

She looked at me in confusion.

Giving her my most charming smile I said, "Now, do me a favor. Stay out of the hallway. Stay in your room and do not for whatever reason bother me tonight except when the house is burning down."

Gracie laughed. "For fifty dollars I'd be glad to do you that favor. You know I rarely bother after eight at night."

"Well, I just want to make sure this is not one of those rare occasions that you would bother me," I explained good naturedly.

"Where is Brighton and Maggie? I want to make sure they won't bother me either."

"Maggie went out of town with her boyfriend, so you don't have to worry about her. Brighton is probably in his room."

I playfully indicated to Gracie to go inside her room. She obliged and resumed talking on the phone.

I gently knocked on Brighton's door and when I did not hear any response I gently peered in and found him sleeping soundly. Looks like he retired early. I scribbled a note and taped it on his door, enclosing a 50-dollar bill.

Brighton,

Do not disturb me nor knock in my room until 8:00 in the morning. Here is 50 dollars for your trouble.

Niles

PS I will never forgive you if you come knocking for whatever reason before 8am.